The news is out
At some point I will put up a picture of me in response to those readers who clearly want evidence that I was actually there. For now I continue to offer more interesting views :-)
The days are going to be split up from now on as it seems fair to describe my way with words as 'prolific' and so much was packed into each day.
Monday 1st October
The best laid plans were blown off course first thing this morning after a call to the Head of Concern in Kombolche to schedule a meeting at his earliest convenience. His experience of well targeted aid work and local capacity development mean he is well placed to advise us on the terms and potential pitfalls of the MoU. His convenience turns out to be right now (i.e. 9am Monday) or not til Wednesday evening. Given that we only have until Thursday or Friday and there is much to be discussed and digested before then, now is definitely the best option so everything else gets shifted back a level of priority. This includes the promised visit to Degan High School at 10am (4am Ethiopian time), and the first of what is to become a daily rescheduling until we finally get time to complete our business there on Thursday. The very heavy green shoulder bag with books, computer and camera is brought in, carried round and taken home each day until then.
Arriving in Degan on the second day, the news of our arrival has clearly traveled. We are surrounded by people from the moment we touch down. Some are curious, some helpful and others blatantly hopeful. They know from experience that when the Cunninghams arrive, if help is needed and humanly possible, it will probably be forthcoming. From this point on, no one in our party has to carry their own bag or do more than look in the direction of something we need.
Despite it being Ramadan in this predominantly Moslem area, we are invited to lunch and treated generously to a delicious meal of chilli flavoured meat and rolled up portions of sorghum bread.. The staple food is a kind of sorghum that we have seen growing along many roadsides and on seemingly impossibly steep hillsides. It is a tall long leaved crop that looks similar to corn except for the grain yielding head at the top of the plant. This crop is vulnerable to inadequate rainfall and pests and may yet end up as cattle feed. It is just about ready for harvest but needs some serious rain to get it properly ripe. It hasn’t rained in a while so time is becoming the other dependent variable in this life sustaining equation.
When ripe, the grain is ground and made into a large flat pancake then rolled up and dipped in meat or vegetable sauce, mostly cooked up with beri beri, a delicious and ubiquitous Ethiopian chilli sauce. The raw ingredients for that have become ridiculously expensive this year for reasons yet to be explained.
After lunch and traditionally served (DELICIOUS) Ethiopian coffee, Ron asks if he can do a reading and prayer with Sam translating into Amharic.
I learn afterwards that there is a small group of ‘believers’ in Degan, and understand the reason for the gathering in the house that day. There are people present who I know are unwell and hungry for reasons unrelated to their religion, but expressions tell that today they are able to forget their suffering and know joy and love. I don’t have to be a believer in this sense to know that this is Christianity at its best and in practice. It wasn't like this where I grew up!
The recently widowed man is one of those gathered in the house today. He brings a gift of sugar cane-like plant stalks that we chew and discard for the cattle. His way of offering what he has to say thank you for caring. It is good to see him looking calm and obviously a part of the community that looks after its own. Happy would be too much to ask in the circumstances but better is good enough.
The second 'miracle' is that it starts pouring with wet, wonderful rain as soon as the prayers are over and we prepare to leave the house. I pause to wonder who is calling the shots, but only momentarily as there are many other great shots not to be missed.
I am a little surprised to hear the hope expressed that God will take the youngest child of the widower quickly, but fully understand that a weeks old baby’s already challenged chance of survival is much reduced without a mother. My hope is that he survives, though I have no idea if this serves my own interests or his.
The days are going to be split up from now on as it seems fair to describe my way with words as 'prolific' and so much was packed into each day.
Monday 1st October
The best laid plans were blown off course first thing this morning after a call to the Head of Concern in Kombolche to schedule a meeting at his earliest convenience. His experience of well targeted aid work and local capacity development mean he is well placed to advise us on the terms and potential pitfalls of the MoU. His convenience turns out to be right now (i.e. 9am Monday) or not til Wednesday evening. Given that we only have until Thursday or Friday and there is much to be discussed and digested before then, now is definitely the best option so everything else gets shifted back a level of priority. This includes the promised visit to Degan High School at 10am (4am Ethiopian time), and the first of what is to become a daily rescheduling until we finally get time to complete our business there on Thursday. The very heavy green shoulder bag with books, computer and camera is brought in, carried round and taken home each day until then.
Arriving in Degan on the second day, the news of our arrival has clearly traveled. We are surrounded by people from the moment we touch down. Some are curious, some helpful and others blatantly hopeful. They know from experience that when the Cunninghams arrive, if help is needed and humanly possible, it will probably be forthcoming. From this point on, no one in our party has to carry their own bag or do more than look in the direction of something we need.
Despite it being Ramadan in this predominantly Moslem area, we are invited to lunch and treated generously to a delicious meal of chilli flavoured meat and rolled up portions of sorghum bread.. The staple food is a kind of sorghum that we have seen growing along many roadsides and on seemingly impossibly steep hillsides. It is a tall long leaved crop that looks similar to corn except for the grain yielding head at the top of the plant. This crop is vulnerable to inadequate rainfall and pests and may yet end up as cattle feed. It is just about ready for harvest but needs some serious rain to get it properly ripe. It hasn’t rained in a while so time is becoming the other dependent variable in this life sustaining equation.
When ripe, the grain is ground and made into a large flat pancake then rolled up and dipped in meat or vegetable sauce, mostly cooked up with beri beri, a delicious and ubiquitous Ethiopian chilli sauce. The raw ingredients for that have become ridiculously expensive this year for reasons yet to be explained.
After lunch and traditionally served (DELICIOUS) Ethiopian coffee, Ron asks if he can do a reading and prayer with Sam translating into Amharic.
I learn afterwards that there is a small group of ‘believers’ in Degan, and understand the reason for the gathering in the house that day. There are people present who I know are unwell and hungry for reasons unrelated to their religion, but expressions tell that today they are able to forget their suffering and know joy and love. I don’t have to be a believer in this sense to know that this is Christianity at its best and in practice. It wasn't like this where I grew up!
The recently widowed man is one of those gathered in the house today. He brings a gift of sugar cane-like plant stalks that we chew and discard for the cattle. His way of offering what he has to say thank you for caring. It is good to see him looking calm and obviously a part of the community that looks after its own. Happy would be too much to ask in the circumstances but better is good enough.
The second 'miracle' is that it starts pouring with wet, wonderful rain as soon as the prayers are over and we prepare to leave the house. I pause to wonder who is calling the shots, but only momentarily as there are many other great shots not to be missed.
I am a little surprised to hear the hope expressed that God will take the youngest child of the widower quickly, but fully understand that a weeks old baby’s already challenged chance of survival is much reduced without a mother. My hope is that he survives, though I have no idea if this serves my own interests or his.
posted by Cathy Gunn at
October 18, 2007
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